Valor of the Defeated
by Angelus Erreare
Summary: [Shin Megami Tensei:DDS1 & DDS2] Even in the midst of sadistic warfare, cannibalistic rapture, honor and dignity still crosses the minds of those who emerge as victors and likewise to those who had been defeated. WARNING: ANGST, SLIGHT VIOLENCE
1. Fear of Harley

**Valor of the Defeated**

**By: Angelus Erreare**

**A/N: Disclaimer: I own nothing; all characters mentioned below belong to ATLUS USA.**

**WARNING: OOC for Serph's non-existent sense of inquisitiveness. CRUDE LANGUAGE, MINOR AND MAJOR SPOILERS for both DDS1 and DDS2.**

**Chapter 1: Fear of Harley **

The silver-haired AI looked around him and saw only the endless desert before him. They had ascended to their most sought-after Nirvana…

Ah yes… the Promised Land.

He blinked.

Their Nirvana had turned out to be nothing but a dream…

The Nirvana that they had fought hard for was nothing but the figment of their imaginations. The Nirvana that they had all bled for was nothing more than an illusion…And the Nirvana that his comrades had died for was nothing more than a blatant, shameless lie.

He blinked once more.

'Comrades…' he trailed off.

At that point, a thought passed through him like a speeding bullet and life as he knew it in that reality seemed to have faded, only to birth a completely separate one.

He opened his eyes and saw only the home, the _only_ home that he and his team had ever known.

He blinked once more as he felt something grace the skin on his pale cheek.

Bringing his hand to his face, he realized that it was…

'Water.'

He looked up and saw the dull and lazy grey skies.

'The Junkyard…'

Could it be that all he had experienced, such as the fight with Angel, the revelation of Nirvana and his battles to find Sera in "paradise" had been nothing but dreams inside his head…? Had it been that nothing as such had ever taken place…?

"The defeat of the Brutes has been our greatest victory."

He stilled himself as he had heard another of his comrades speak from afar. The defeat of the Brutes…

Ah, so it had been a reality after all. Everything really had happened; even their ascension upon their false Nirvana.

He closed his eyes, 'Then I suppose I am dreaming.' he thought to himself, attempting to erase the illusion of being in the Junkyard.

At that point in time though, again another word seemed to have come afloat in his mind…

'Comrades…'

And another still…

'Nirvana…'

His steely silver eyes suddenly narrowed as he thought of it; as he thought of them. Them…they who had all fought, suffered and finally succumbed to the Embryon tribe, relinquishing their claim on Nirvana.

They; the leaders of the other tribes.

He closed his eyes again and a flash of green and auburn fleeted through his mind.

Harley.

He remembered him. He remembered the way the auburn-haired man begged for mercy; begged for his life.

At that time, as he recalled, as Heat had grabbed Harley by the neck and hurled him through the room, he had been feeling nothing but blind indifference.

But in the midst of that, he wondered, why he felt what he felt…and why Harley said what he said and did what he did. Why did he beg? Why did he not fight…? Why did he fidget so much? And why did he _run_…?

Serph's eyes suddenly became cold.

Why did Harley exhibit such _prey_-like behavior?

'Because he was one.' he finally concurred within himself.

But then again; what was it that they called as "prey"? He wasn't completely certain but as he experienced as being the one who devoured others and not being devoured, as he felt strength surge through his body while they, his helpless victims had none…then, at that point, the word "prey" to be used for the ones that he had killed and eaten seemed…right.

And seeing that Harley had been their very first…_his_ very first victim…it would be right and just to say that he was…their very first _prey_…

So, what was it that danced within the caged animal's eyes? What was it that lingered oh so prevalently within their prey's eyes?

Ah, it all came back to him now…

He recalled the very emotion that danced within those bright hazel eyes of his…

'Fear.'

Serph closed his eyes once more and there felt a tingle in his gut. What was that…? Ah yes, were those his body's reactions to what humans say they "feel"?

He nodded; yes. They were what were called as…emotions.

Curious, really, within his own mind, as to how thoughts and recollection of certain things and events in the past can trigger such reactions from him…

This "fear", as they called it, wasn't a flight of fancy…It had been all too real. He had seen it; they had all seen it…They all had seen it in the Junkyard and they all had seen it once more in their false Nirvana.

People killed their own kind in order to survive. Naturally, those who were weak perished while the strong prevailed and lived. And like prey that he now was certain was Harley, he saw the very same emotion that danced within his eyes, within the eyes of the small life-forms that these humans called as "children".

Fear.

It was a disease.

It was a disease in the Junkyard and it was a disease in their false Nirvana.

And to that disease, as natural as breathing, he, as the ultimate victor of the Junkyard's war, had a reaction to it. No; the word "reaction" seemed too general…

No.

He _felt_ something with regards to fear.

Now what was that emotion…? What was it that fear triggered within him…? What was it that seeing fear within his victims' eyes propelled him to feel…?

He shook his head as he concentrated on how to decipher such an emotion; more appropriately, the emotion that he had associated with Harley and his display of fear.

He thought for a moment but nothing came.

"…"

But like another revelation, it suddenly seemed so clear to him…

Again, his eyes became cold as he believed himself to have grasped the explanation.

"…"

Disgust.

As the realization had come to him, the man closed his eyes and opened them to find himself within the false Nirvana once more.

Wanting to return to HQ, Serph turned his back from the sandy desert and walked away, all the while having the thought in his head.

Disgust.

Disgust for Harley and disgust for his lack of pride as a warrior…

Harley's actions made him prey to Embryon…and as prey they deserved only to be hunted and to be killed.

That thought, he reckoned, had been reinforced by the harsh environment that he had seen in this false Nirvana. Within it, violence and carnage was the only way to survive…

And for that, there would be the hunter…and the hunted.

From that perspective, he supposed he could understand and even _sympathize_ with Harley's behavior.

It had been simple really; he had been fair game while his team was the huntsmen.

xxxx

The world around him seemed hazy…

The surroundings seemed to fade only to focus and become vivid…only to fade into absolute and irreconcilable oblivion.

Where was he?

Was he dead…?

Was he alive…?

Or was he somewhere in between…?

He had just heard the words of Schröedinger…Or was that a dream as well?

His eyes became half-lidded as his mind tried to focus and attempted to leave that blasted realm where reality and unreality seemed to collide.

He closed his eyes once more and calmed himself. He forced his heartbeat to slow down…and commanded his muscles to relax. Perhaps it was Schröedinger's words that would serve as his guide so that he could leave that vortex. And even if he had heard such words from the divine feline only minutes prior, to him, such words seemed so fleeting…

It seemed that it had been forever since he had last heard them.

Hence, he forced himself to recall God's conduit's words once more.

What was it that he had seen? What was it that he had heard…?

His furrowed his eyebrows together as his lips set themselves upon a grim line while he continued to shut his eyes as tightly as he could.

He had seen Sera. He had seen how she had suffered under "his" hands. He had seen how she had loved "him"…and how "he" had betrayed her.

He had seen the faces of his comrades…Of how trust and compassion seemed to strike forth from their eyes.

Belief.

Sympathy.

Loyalty.

Strength.

As though he had been stricken by God's staff, the silver-haired man suddenly opened his eyes, great truth realized.

He looked around himself and saw that he was in his false Nirvana once more. The dream was over and again reality knocked upon his doorstep, asking him to face it…and to conquer it.

He sat up and saw that he was within a chamber that he realized to be the remnants of a monster's belly. He remembered now.

He stood up and started towards the belly's wall but stopped as he saw another brilliant flash within his mind.

Auburn.

His heart then stopped.

_Disgust_.

Yes; he remembered. That was what he had felt whenever he would think of the auburn-haired tribe leader. In his eyes, the cowardly man had no place in the world. He lacked everything that was necessary to survive…and such, had deserved his fate.

But was that still true…?

Serph looked at his boots, staring at them through the ankle-deep bloody liquid that he found that filled the belly of the monster.

Blood.

_Blood. _

That was the root of it all.

They took blood from others so that they could sustain their own…

At that point, he recalled how Harley had run from him. Cowardly…? Perhaps.

But he didn't think so; at least, not anymore.

Harley's behavior, how he had run, how he shook upon his toes, how he begged for mercy…and how he fought desperately as a last resort…

Those things, those acts…they weren't cowardly.

'No. Not at all.' thought the Embryon leader at last.

He understood now.

Fear neither discriminates nor chooses its victims. Man or woman, young or old, sane or insane…fear would find you.

Harley had been one of the first to release their powers. From that point of view, he would know nothing of it…He would feel confused, perplexed…and lost.

'Like a child seeking comfort from a parent.'

Young Sera's smile suddenly flashed through his mind and he comprehended all the more.

There was no difference between Harley and Sera. The fear that they had both exhibited were normal…expected, and human.

They were all God's children. And they now knew the existence of God to be absolute…And they all _feared_ God.

Fear wasn't to be condemned.

Fear was to be understood…

Serph looked from his boots to his hands. They were bloody too.

Perhaps he had been mistaken with his assessment of Harley's actions. His flight and his desperate attempts at life weren't cowardly.

It was worthy of respect.

Life, no matter how small, was still significant to protect.

Circumstances, no matter how hopeless, were still worth fighting for…to the bitter end.

There was no shame in acting the way he did. Harley was a child within the land of endless rain, just as he and his comrades had been.

His defeat, though it had been foreseen, wasn't of laughing matter.

Harley had defended what remained of his life the only way he knew how. And if anyone would dare think of his actions as cowardly, how differently, then, he wondered, would anyone act given Harley's predisposition and his position…?

_Being alone within his room…terrified at all the blood and gore that spilled themselves outside his city's walls while his followers had lost all their humanities, devouring all those that lay before them; friend or foe, ally or enemy, all were the same…Loyalty had been lost, control forgotten and all that remained was the unending hunger and lust for flesh, while an enemy tribe had hunted for him and only him. _

_He heard nothing but the agonizing screams of his people right outside his door. He smelled nothing but the foul stench of blood and flesh and the repugnant aroma of the breaths of beasts and monsters that filled the air and clung to the walls. And what made his blood run cold was the fact that the very individuals brutalizing his people…were his own. _

_He wanted to help them…and he did; but he couldn't deter the great evil that swept through his tribe like a hurricane for long. He knew not how to stop it…He knew not how to stop himself. He could feel power within him; power that he neither understood nor controlled. _

_Would he be able to control it…? Or would it control him…? _

_Horrified at what he had seen, he wondered whether or not he himself was capable of such untold carnage._

_He huddled upon the darkest corner of his dark room, his bright eyes darting within wildly, his heart racing at such a rate that he feared it would burst. _

_They were coming for him…_

_Weren't they…? _

_But who was this "they"? Was it the other tribes…? Or his very own tribesmen…? If it had been the latter, how was he to face them…? _

_There was no answer to that. _

_His end was nigh. He knew it but chose to delay it as much as he could. But he couldn't help but wonder…_

_How was his end to come? _

_Would he suffer as much as he imagined he would as he heard those screams…? Would the pain be overwhelming that he would die a thousand times over until he would find eternal repose…? _

_What would it feel like to be eaten alive…? _

'_D-don't eat me…' _

_Would he kill himself just before so that he wouldn't suffer…?_

'_No I…I can't.' _

_He couldn't. _

_And so, he shut himself within that room, thinking that it would all go away and all the pain would be healed…He shut himself off and covered his ears with his palms as he muffled out all of his people's screams, hoping against hope that all of this had just been a bad dream…_

_Finally though, after a while, the screams seemed to have died down…_

_They were all gone, weren't they? _

_He was the only one left, wasn't he? _

_Now, he had no one. _

_He had no one else…_

_He had no one left but himself within his dark, dark room…_

_All alone…_

_Knowing that his death was to come, he embraced himself, his eyes wide with fear, his form shaking to the core with untold fright, his soul frozen with blind terror…with each second bringing death closer and closer… _

_He shuddered…_

How then, would anyone else have acted …?

'…'

Serph dared not answer that question. He couldn't because he also knew what it was like to be afraid. He had been afraid for Sera ever since they had been forcefully parted.

He had been afraid for his comrades every time that they would head out for their missions.

Fear was everywhere. It will take many shapes, faces and forms. It will come in different situations and circumstances, but fear was fear. It chooses everyone and no one and discriminates against everyone and no one.

Everyone was fair game.

And as for Harley…

'He could've ended it himself.'

But he didn't.

Harley didn't kill himself when that had been the easiest and most cowardly act of all. Instead, he defended his life to the very end, fighting them with all of what he had.

Serph shook his head.

Such thoughts would remain as they were; merely thoughts. They weren't beyond conjecture…And seeing that Harley was gone, he supposed that he really would never know of the auburn-haired man's feelings.

Maybe he really was a coward and was a lousy excuse of a human being.

Or maybe not.

However, with all things being equal, without putting emotion to his assessment of Harley's acts, he did, finally, after much thought, come to a conclusion. He had recognized a pattern for Harley's cowardly act.

Harley, pitted at the very edge of life and upon the jaws of death, clung to life with one weapon in hand; desperation. Like a cornered beast, Harley lashed out with whatever he could find to fend his team off and took his last stand. And everyone knew that the most dangerous beast was always the desperate one…

Fear fuelled desperation and desperation created strength.

And with that thought, he dared think that Harley was also worthy of respect.

At least, respect from a fellow tribe leader.

Respect from an enemy.

Respect from the victor.

Respect from the hunter.

No more, and no less.

xxxx

FIN


	2. Tear of Jinana

**A/N: Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter 1.**

**WARNING: CRUDE LANGUAGE, ANGST**

**Chapter 2: Tear of Jinana**

He turned to his pink-haired comrade as he had heard her sigh. Why did she do that? He nodded; she was probably exhausted.

He looked at her blankly and realized that this female had been an integral part of his team; his most deadly sniper.

He watched, unfazed, as the aforementioned female tucked a lock of stray fuchsia hair behind her ear and in so doing, made his mind stray.

He blinked as he thought he saw a flash of green hair and a soothing voice in his head. He shook his head and there only saw his pink-haired comrade who now looked at him with concern.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

He nodded but he lied for as she asked him that question, it was less pink and more green that he saw.

"Are you sure…?" she asked again; but this time, the voice was different. The female's voice had become firm and deeper…and he soon found himself looking into green eyes…

'Jinana.'

He remembered her.

"Serph?"

That roused him from his thoughts.

He found himself within the same room once more and there looked at Argilla with a tight smile, "I'm fine. Please excuse me."

With that, he left.

Once outside, he resumed his thoughts…

Again he found himself thinking about the strange Maribel Leader. He had been quiet at the time when she had passed on. He spoke not a word as he saw his pink-haired comrade fall onto her knees in what Jinana had called "tears".

He knew not what tears were exactly, but he knew better about them now.

Tears were…water that leaked from one's eyes whenever he or she would feel nothing but negative emotions. He supposed that the green-haired woman meant a lot to Argilla. For if she didn't, Argilla wouldn't have had tears for her.

Wanting nothing to do with her death, Serph let his thoughts linger on Jinana's life. She had accepted their truce with minimal resistance. And she had brandished them as comrades.

Were these true…?

And he had learned from Mick of how she starved herself just so that she wouldn't turn on her followers.

Serph brought his hand to his chin as he thought about it.

It had been admirable, he was sure, that she wanted to save her people. But at the same time, didn't she think that as leader of the tribe, that should she perish, their lands would automatically be forfeited to the first tribe who would claim it…?

Would it mean, then, that Jinana's act of pure self-sacrifice for her people had been the real cause of their tribe's collapse, their ultimate defeat and their surrender to Embryon…?

And if so, wouldn't it mean that…

'She was a fool.'

Again, Serph's eyes became cold.

Tears or no, comrades or no, the green-haired woman had been the cause of her own demise…as well as her own tribe's.

However, it was very ironic and almost humorous on how logic worked. It was ironic and humorous on how the very action to save her people would actually condemn them…

Because she refused to take the little blood and flesh that God had asked them to take in order to gain power, she had been too weak to resist Mick's blows and attacks. Because of her apparent misplaced virtues, she had doomed her people into defeat, and conversion.

And with that logic, perhaps it had been fate and destiny that the Maribel leader had met her end in such as tragic and dramatic fashion…

Jinana's actions were both as admirable as they were foolish.

And so, he neither felt glad nor saddened at her demise…

For her, he would shed no tears.

For her, there was only indifference, at its best…

xxxx

Serph moved neither hair nor hide as he saw the fast approaching form of his comrade. He could feel the overwhelming power that oozed from his redheaded friend. He nearly shuddered at the amount of hatred that spewed from his red eyes.

He knew what was to happen next.

And he did nothing as the moment came to pass. He did nothing as he felt a sharp and piercing pain in his abdomen and then his back as Heat's arm had stabbed and gone through his body like a sword.

Serph, with his half lidded eyes, saw the shock in Heat's eyes and the flash and glint of regret.

And for that, the silver-haired man felt nothing but happiness and contentment.

It was not important to him that Heat begged for forgiveness or that he wished he could reverse time so that the damage would not be sustained. No; to him that was not what was important.

What was important to him was that, in his act of self-sacrifice and understanding, with overwhelming kindness, and want for peace, he had been able to brand and etch such ideals into Heat's mind and heart. He knew this as he saw the regret and sadness within the redhead's eyes as he stabbed and practically ended his leader's life.

To Serph, that had been enough. To see that Heat had begun to know the meaning of true sacrifice and the very essence and core of camaraderie was worth bleeding and dying for.

Why…? Why, people would ask…

It was for a simple and uncomplicated reason.

It was for his comrade.

His team, his comrades were his world.

Sacrificing for the people he loved was something that needed no words of explanation. Sacrifice was something that was inherent and natural.

And if sacrificing his life just so that Heat might see the light of reason, then, he reckoned that it had been a small price to pay.

He knew that in his absence, his team would be saddened…But he also knew that his demise would only drive all of them to bond closer together.

And so, as he began to fall from the edge and towards his death, he saw once more a flash of green…

Jinana.

At that point, he understood why she had done what she had done.

She starved her body as well as her soul because she couldn't bring herself to be the very harbinger of death. She didn't want to be the one to hurt, maim and kill others for her survival…

Just as he was with Heat. He didn't want to fight back…He didn't want to be the one who would put an end to Heat's life, even if it cost him his own.

He knew that he had felt indifferent about Jinana's death…and almost scoffed at her idea of demonstrating so-called self-sacrifice.

But he was wrong.

Even when the results seemed so small that all of his efforts had seemed so futile, there lay a seed of hope.

The very fact that Jinana had touched the hearts of his teammates, most especially Argilla, had everlasting and monumental effects…

And just seeing the emotion within Heat's eyes was more than enough.

Knowing that he had gotten his point across was the most important thing.

And so, with those calm and peaceful thoughts, the Embryon leader began to fall into the abyss of his death faster…

He froze a bit though, as he felt something drop on his cheek.

He opened his eyes and saw a glimpse of his pink-haired teammate from the top of the capsule. Bringing his hand to his cheek, he felt what it was.

It was a tear.

It was Argilla's tear.

No.

That was wrong.

It had been Jinana's tear.

'Your ideals will live on…'

That was the very core of signifying self-sacrifice. Her ideals will live on through the people whose hearts she had touched.

And so, with his remaining breath, he hoped and wished on how he could've been like her; like Jinana. How he wished and hoped that he had possessed his teammates' hearts…

He was wrong, then, about her wasn't he?

Jinana deserved more from him than blind indifference.

She deserved to be honored.

And he did.

He honored her; not just as a tribe leader, not as an AI…

As a man, made of flesh and blood, with a heart standing firm and strong for those he loved, he honored her…

With his last breath, he honored her…

xxxx

FIN


	3. Greed of Mick

**A/N: Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter 1.**

**WARNING: CRUDE LANGUAGE**

**Chapter 3: Greed of Mick**

He looked at the piece of equipment in his hands. He remembered looking through something like that at the Junkyard when they had spied on Mick the Slug.

He shook his head and set the pair of binoculars down on the desk.

He really shouldn't be focusing much about the past.

However, attempting to not think about it, made him think about it all the more. There were many things in the Junkyard that he remembered and many things that he rather forgot.

But among those he recalled greatly was something that the binoculars before him visualized for him.

Serph stared at the binoculars once more and thought about the greedy monster that ruled the Solids tribe.

'Mick the Slug.' he thought, unfazed.

Mick the Slug…

The way Serph saw it, seeing as Mick had been one of their most tricky and elusive opponents, the nickname "Slug" seemed so…

'Inappropriate.' he finished inwardly.

Mick had tricked them, taken Sera and had managed to elude their team in more than one occasion.

There was only one word that would describe the great slug.

And it was…

Sly.

He was sly; he was _cunning_.

Serph closed his eyes.

The slug wasn't just cunning. From within his overweight and bulky exterior, built up a powerful emotion.

Serph's eyes flashed as he recognized what it was; pure greed.

Mick the Slug had never gone for battle. He had never left the Citadel and had left all of the battles for his people to fight. He had never led them for any offensive either and remained in his shell.

Serph's lip suddenly tugged up into what seemed to be a ghost of a smile as he reckoned that from that perspective, perhaps, Mick deserved his name as a "slug".

Again, though, he shook his head. That was a superficial name, for Mick the Slug was more dangerous up close more than anything else…

Turning his attention to the window, Serph let his thoughts meander all the more, centered upon the greedy Solids tribe leader.

Serph's eyes hardened as he recalled him. Such a greedy and cruel individual he had been. He remembered how his team had rushed from the Citadel to aid Jinana and how he found Mick delivering blows to the Maribel leader's unresisting body.

He remembered how Mick's unflattering laugh echoed though the rain and thunder as he openly mocked Jinana and tossed her over.

He recalled with a flash of anger as Mick had single-handedly overtaken Manipura and…

'…Taken Sera.' he thought with a pinch in his gut.

As the thought of the black-haired angel appeared in his mind, the emotion of vile anger emerged within the pit of the silver-haired man's stomach.

Mick cared for no one and nothing but himself. He cared neither for his tribesmen nor for those people who stood in his way. For him, all had been pawns in his great grand game of deceit.

He had used everyone and everything around him; even the traitorous Bat.

Serph had no doubt that once Bat had outlived his usefulness that the great Slug would dispose of him as easily as he threw out his own men towards the other tribes.

He wanted victory more than anyone else. And he wanted it for reasons that differed from the rest of the tribe leaders. All of them with Mick's exception had wanted to ascend to Nirvana in order to free themselves as well as their tribe from the shackles of sin and punishment.

Harley, Jinana, Lupa and even Varin led their tribes towards victory for their betterment. But not the Slug. He wanted Nirvana for himself and himself alone.

The Slug was greedy.

Serph's eyes suddenly flashed coldly.

He deserved to die.

xxxx

Turning his gaze towards what remained of his team, he felt a swell of pride. Though they weren't complete, and were amongst strangers in a world of harsh hostilities, they remained steadfast and firm, their eyes solely upon their objectives and the completion of their mission; to retrieve Heat and Sera.

He looked from the jovial Cielo, to the older-sister figure of Argilla to the scolding grandfather that was Gale.

He couldn't help but smile a bit.

He had recalled the time that his team had organized a scheme designed to fool the Brutes into thinking that Sera was aboard the ship…

It was Gale's idea.

It was…ingenious.

And cunning.

The silver-haired man suddenly froze as the familiar word graced his mind. Cunning.

He frowned; when was the line to be drawn from cunningness to deceitfulness…? What was the difference?

Serph shook his head as his thoughts meandered over to Mick the Slug.

The Slug's actions were that of cunning, weren't they? He had managed to elude the Embryon's efforts even when they had teamed up with the Maribel. The Solids had even subdued Manipura and had deceived the Embryon into liberating it when Mick's original plan was to uncover the location of the sought-after black-haired girl…

To which, much to Serph's regret, he had succeeded.

He had taken Sera and almost had complete victory.

However, the gods did not favor him and in the end, the Slug had succumbed to the Embryon.

Did he die, then, because of his apparent avarice? Did he die as a sign of divine punishment? That, Serph cannot answer. But he did have an opinion about the Slug; a changed one.

He felt angry, yes, when Mick had eluded them, abducted Sera and even put a traitorous thought in Heat's mind.

However, as a tribe leader, he supposed that he should overlook the man's voracity and focus on something else entirely; such as the fruits of Mick's own ravenousness.

How had the Slug been able to formulate such plans; such wily plans…?

Serph thought for a moment before arriving at a conclusion.

His _greed. _

That had been the very root of his success; no matter how short-lived.

But, what was greed to begin with?

Greed was a feeling of overwhelming desire with selfishness.

Although it was a vile characteristic, there was something that could be learnt from it. Success and victory did not always go to the strongest or the fastest, but it went always to the one who wanted it most.

Desire, per se, was the driving force for anyone and everyone towards his or her goals, no matter what they may be…

From that desire that owned the heart, the mind had birthed slyness and deviousness. From that desire, cunningness had been born.

And from that, battles had been won, lives had been saved and success achieved. Well, that should've been the way, but it wasn't so, given that it had been the Slug who had possessed such furtive cleverness…

Battles had been won, yes, but lives had been lost in the process of achieving what Mick defined as "success"…

Mick's desire for the ascension to Nirvana had allowed him to feign an alliance with Bat, thus using him to betray Jinana and expose their collaborated offensive, therefore eluding even Embryon's well prepared strike force. Because of that selfish desire, his cunningness had prevailed at such a height that he had fooled the Embryon into trapping themselves in the Solid-controlled Manipura while he destroyed and ravaged Muladhara and had taken Sera.

Serph brought a hand to his chin at that point in his train of thought.

Come to think of it, all of it, right from their feigned alliance with the Maribel down to their arrival at the theme park, all had been carefully orchestrated.

And so, with that, something in the way that Serph thought about the Slug evolved even still.

Though it had been unnerving to think it of Mick, Serph had to admit, that even such a vile man deserved even if just a speck of praise.

Mick's desire for success and power had led to his greed, which in turn had turned into cunningness. It was his scheming mind that gave him the edge in that fight.

Serph would never agree with the way Mick had felt and what he had done. He did however, admire the Slug.

Although he didn't approve of Mick personally, Serph deemed that he could not judge the Slug either…With regards to cunningness and deceit, he could not. After all, they themselves had done something that was similar to Mick's deceitfulness. They had fooled the Brutes and had eluded Varin's team.

Serph then nodded in understanding.

He had been asking, what the difference had been between cunningness and deceitfulness. Technically, he thought, that there really was no difference.

The difference lay not in what both actions did, but how one felt when doing it.

Deceitfulness was the same as lying. Lying and untruthfulness were almost the same but with one vital difference. Lying had the intention of hurting others while it was not necessarily true for being untruthful…

That was the difference, he reckoned, between cunningness and deceit.

Deceit was like a lie; it was with the cruel intention to hurt while cunningness wasn't.

That was the difference between he and Mick.

Although his team had cunningly eluded and fooled the Brutes, they neither enjoyed it nor relished in the fact that they had ended the lives of so many soldiers when they had blown up that ship. They had killed to survive. Not an ounce of happiness or pride for that was felt within each of their hearts…

Mick had been the complete opposite.

He had sadistically laughed as he had taunted and mocked Jinana. He had continued his assault on her even when she refused to fight.

He had walked on her and her being as he left her there for the Embryon team to deal with. He had used Sera to lure Embryon into that castle and had hurt her even when he knew that she was defenseless.

Truly, there wasn't much to remember about Mick other than his cruelty and his overwhelming gluttony. However, there was always something to learn from anyone and everyone.

And from the Slug, the Silver Fox learned quite a lot.

Although greed was terrible and despicable, intense desire to win was not.

Desire for success was the root of it all.

Desire to win gave birth to cunningness.

Serph also learned that there was no harm in being devious to gain the advantage. The core lay within the heart. As long as his heart was uncorrupted by greed and selfishness, cunningness was an invaluable skill.

So, from that perspective, he supposed that Mick the Slug was a tolerable subject to ponder over.

Well, all of his thoughts were mere speculation. He supposed that he would really never come to know of what really went on within Mick's twisted and sadistic mind. Had he really been the mastermind behind all those battles? All of those orchestrated scenarios? Had those brilliant traps really been the result of his slyly calculating mind…?

'Was he really that smart to begin with…?' Serph found himself asking as he tilted his head to the side in self doubt, now beginning to feel disbelief in his mental appraisal of the Solids tribe leader as he recalled that the overweight man didn't really look like the smart and intellectual type.

"…"

He sweat-dropped.

He really didn't want to answer that.

He preferred to think of Mick as a man, at least, of _some_ worth…!

'God couldn't have made him _that_ terrible and imperfect…' he thought, convincing himself.

But with all of that aside, Serph could only wonder as to where Mick had been at that moment. Had he been sent to another Junkyard to atone for his sins…? Or had he been pardoned by the Gods?

It would be very easy for him to wish ill upon the immoral scum but he dared not do it.

'I'm not like him.'

No; he wasn't.

And so, with the best thought he could muster, he dared think that he, in the slightest amount, admired Mick.

He admired his desire to win and he admired his cunningness.

From a fellow Avatar Tuner, from an animal towards another animal; more specifically, from one fox to another, he admired him.

xxxx

FIN


	4. Wrath of Varin

**A/N: Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter 1.**

**WARNING: CRUDE LANGUAGE **

**Chapter 4: Wrath of Varin **

Hatred.

Or something like it.

That was what he had felt during that meeting. Yes; there was no way that he could ever forget it. All tribe leaders had been summoned to the Sahasrara Temple and he had been obliged to go.

He had been the last to arrive. But not that it was an issue…

He remembered how the dissemination machine was overridden by another voice; another consciousness…He knew that the being who now spoke through the lips of the machine exhibited an emotion that was malicious.

He felt it; he felt its adverse and perhaps even, hostile affects, but he could neither name it nor understand it.

He remembered as he paid it no heed and instead listened carefully to what its instructions were to be.

He even responded to one of its statements to which its malevolent yet divine aura had turned its attention.

But again, as the voice faded, he had expected the unnamed emotion to dissipate. But it didn't. There was another in the chamber that possessed such negative emotions…?

He needn't look to know who it had been. It had been the burly leader of the strongest tribe in the Junkyard.

The Brutes leader, Varin.

He had known from the very beginning that it had been towards him Varin's malice had been pointed to.

But, as to why, it was something that the Embryon leader had been ignorant about.

However, as he looked back at it now, he knew what that unknown and unnamed malicious emotion had been.

It had been hatred.

Pure and unadulterated hatred.

"…"

And looking back into retrospection, he had known now why it had been directed at him…

Varin had explained to him, to each of his teammates why he had hated him so.

And although he could choose to deflect his accusations and defend himself, the Embryon leader did nothing of the sort.

He himself remembered nothing of his past at that point in time; and so, how was he to assert his innocence against the crimes that Varin so clearly accused him of?

Serph shook his head.

He couldn't.

So he didn't.

Varin had always been the very epitome of power in the Junkyard.

Although Serph was confident in the strength of his team and his tribe, there was always a shadow of a doubt in his mind on whether or not their tribe could win the war…win against the likes of the Solids and most especially against the seemingly awesome power and strength of the Brutes.

The Brutes had always been undefeated in their battles and the Embryon had been fortunate enough to never have caught the ever watchful eye of Varin.

"…"

But then again, the Brutes had always had their hands full.

'The Wolves…'

The Wolves had seen to that.

And so, the great stalemate in the Junkyard had begun. The Solids fought with the Maribel, the Brutes with the Wolves while the Embryon clearly held their own against the Vanguards.

That great stalemate was probably what angered Angel enough so that she had given an addendum to their war that promised to eradicate the stalemate and produce the true victor to their seemingly endless contest.

The black-haired girl.

And although Varin had never come to Sera's possession, it had been clear to Serph and the rest of the team that Varin had been after something else entirely.

With Varin's revelation of their past lives to him and his team, he had ascertained that the Brutes tribe leader had really set his sights upon he and he alone.

And he had ascertained that Varin's feeling for him was pure loathing. It had nothing to do with whose tribe he had to conquer next. It had nothing to do with what next he had to do in order to achieve victory.

Varin, as Serph understood now, cared neither for victory nor Nirvana.

He just wanted to fight Serph.

That was all.

That was what was different in Varin compared to the other tribe leaders. Serph had reached a level of mutual respect for the other tribe leaders the way they did for him. But it wasn't for Varin. Varin's feelings for the Embryon leader were something that was personal and deep seethed.

And that was what made the difference.

Yes; and it was this disparity that had given way for Varin's quantified power to change and evolve. The deep seethed feelings that Varin possessed for the Embryon leader had led changes to the amount of power that Varin possessed. There was a distinction in the amount of power Varin had _before_ and _after_ their demon virus.

Varin had already been as powerful as they came even before the virus and it was no surprise that Varin had gained more power and strength than anyone else in the Junkyard at the arrival of the virus…

However, along with that, something else had changed still.

And now, as Serph looked at what remained of his team, he recalled the very same power and hatred from Heat within the EGG Capsule.

Varin had gained even more power with hatred. It wasn't enough that he gained more power from the demon virus; rather, he had reached another height of strength and supremacy through hatred.

That was the way it worked. Didn't it?

He closed his eyes.

He didn't want to admit it, but it was what it was.

Hatred was a tool; a weapon. Hatred forced one's heart to harden and blacken, rendering it unable to feel for anyone and anything. It prevented anything from entering the heart and allowed only the disease of vile revulsion and abhorrence to accumulate, grow and fester within until it engulfed the body and ultimately, ate away at one's mind and soul…

And that was what had happened to Varin.

He had gained the upper hand with the Wolves and had defeated them.

Serph remembered what it had been like as they walked through the halls of Varin's stronghold on how the aura of power and force seemed to choke them. Its ferocity was something that Serph had never known. Its fervent impression was enough to strike fear and even insanity into the hearts of those who would dare grace its halls…But not his team.

His team had possessed something that Varin did not.

He smiled at that as he recalled about his team.

'Argilla, Heat…Gale and Cielo.' he thought as he felt a bit saddened at the fact that Argilla and Heat had passed on.

While Varin possessed only untold detestation and repulsion, his team possessed nothing but love and compassion.

That was why…

That was why they had prevailed over the Brutes. That was why they had achieved victory and ascended into Nirvana.

He then shook his head.

He would not deny that Varin had had his reasons for loathing him so. However, that was all in the past now.

Varin was gone, and now a new war was brewing; another war that the Embryon team must win.

He supposed this was the reason that he thought of Varin in the first place.

He was just human and at times, the feeling of fear would take hold of his heart like a vice and refuse to let go…

That was why he was looking for a source of power…

And from that, his thoughts had led him to think of Varin.

And while he had found some answers from his deep and silent contemplation about the Brutes tribe leader, he decided that that wasn't the kind of power that he wanted or needed to win this war.

'Varin's power…is from hatred.'

He knew that hatred only led to death and destruction…and most importantly, it led to the damnation of the soul.

And he didn't want that.

For anyone.

Although he had hated everything that had happened to them so far; such as Heat and Argilla's deaths, Sera's abduction and the lies that they all been fed, he could never have himself fall over the edge of blind loathing and rage the way Varin did.

For if he did…

'I'd be damned.'

And so, he closed his eyes once more and thought about the smiles of his comrades when they were all complete and all were still alive.

With a quick feeling of realization, he opened his eyes and began to walk towards what remained of his team. He knew now what he must do.

'Thank you Varin.' thought the Embryon leader.

Varin was the epitome of power.

He was the epitome of hatred.

Hatred bred power; power that many craved and hungered for.

But it was the wrong sort of power.

Serph would not make the same mistake.

He would learn from Varin's mistake.

Power bred from hatred was limited and wasn't true power. It was superficial, even. However, when one fought with power from the heart, the possibilities were endless and boundless. Even when the whole world seemed to disagree and hate them so, his tribe would prevail; their hearts would prevail.

He had momentarily lost his focus and felt vulnerability envelop his heart. But no longer. Now, he was ready to fight once more. He would fight with all of his heart, having the rest of his team within his being.

Together, they were strong and unstoppable.

Apart, they were lost and confused.

He supposed that he had Varin to thank for reminding him of that. He had nearly forgotten… And for that, he thanked him.

Truly, he respected Varin. From one tribe leader to another, he respected Varin. From one soldier to another, he truly saluted him.

xxxx

FIN


	5. Honor of Lupa

**A/N: Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter 1.**

**WARNING: MINOR ANGST**

**Chapter 5: Honor of Lupa **

There was nothing that he could recall of Lupa that he could deem as substandard.

The Wolves leader was truly as remarkable as the rumors said he was.

He just couldn't understand though as to how they had been defeated. Could it be that Varin had just been too overwhelming…?

Perhaps so.

Although he kept silent at the time, he digested the conversation between Lupa and Gale at Svathisthana deeply.

Lupa had spoken about something called "honor".

At that time, he didn't comprehend it.

However, as he stood witness to Lupa's death, he finally understood.

The Wolves tribe leader had fended off their pursuers at Samsara tunnels, knowing full well the percentage of his survival being low.

Lupa had known, for reasons unknown, who had been the supposed victor.

Serph brought a hand to his chin.

'He knew. But how?' he asked himself.

Why did Lupa entrust the battle to him? Was it because that in the event of his defeat that only the Brutes and Embryon remained?

The explanation seemed plausible.

'But is it the right one?'

He knew, as a military strategist, that yes, indeed that was the reason why Lupa had helped them. However, it wasn't what the Embryon leader felt.

It wasn't right.

And he had seen it in his eyes.

He had looked into Lupa's eyes just before he had had his last breath. And it was a look of…pride and contentment.

Perhaps he had known of his death and had known that Embryon would be the ultimate victors…Truly, his wisdom knew no bounds.

And that was something that he could bow to.

Serph nodded and felt strength within his chest as he felt nothing but admiration for the Wolves tribe leader. He had lived his life upon a code and had died with the same code.

'A life with honor and death with honor…'

At that though, his eyes found the floor as he thought more of Lupa's death.

It had been true that most things that had happened in the Junkyard had been unfair but for Lupa, the word unfair seemed so ineffective and mundane and failed to capture the very essence of the man's life and the very cause of his death.

It was very ironic to have Junkyard's most valorous man die as if he were nothing more than a common street mutt.

'Died with honor huh…?' he asked himself, mentally taking back the previous words that he had had for the man.

Truly, it wasn't the way it ought to be…

That was why bringing the Cerberus down was one of the most difficult thing to do. It was a crime for Serph. It was a travesty of justice to wound and kill the very same person that had helped him and had practically given him full victory over war. And he was confident that the rest of the team felt the same way.

And what was added to injury was that…they had no choice but to end Lupa's life in such a bloody, vicious and violent way…

Lupa, just like everyone in the Junkyard, wasn't free of the disease, of that wretched yet divine disease that forced everyone against each other. It tore comrades apart. It pitted everyone against everyone; brother against brother, ally against ally…

The saddest and most frightening thing was the knowledge of the fact that neither vigilance, nor innocence nor honor could be a shield against the sharp claws and talons of the God-given yet evil demon virus.

Lupa, like everyone else, had succumbed to it.

They knew of how long and hard he had fought…but, in the end, he had yielded to its will and had become like everyone else; insane with power, hungry for blood and lustful for flesh without sense or reason.

Honorable or not, valorous or not, all were the same when bending to the will of the Angel's disease.

It didn't matter whether he fought it or not for in the end, it had claimed his heart and soul and had transformed his former honorable champion self into nothing but a shrieking violent beast; losing his sense of self, his ability of communication, of reason…robbed of his humanity.

His proud and gallant self had been reduced to being nothing more than a rabid dog…

Serph tightly closed his eyes at that point and turned away.

Lupa's story was tragic and he wouldn't let that happen once more.

Though he knew nothing of Lupa personally, he did know that the Wolves leader was filled with nothing but pride as a warrior, strength of a leader, valor of a martyr and the wisdom of the wolf; the one true Alpha Male.

How he had died shouldn't be that important, he reckoned.

It was how he had _lived_ that should be remembered about him…

At that thought, Serph opened his eyes and nodded.

Although he believed that Lupa deserved Nirvana more than anyone else, and although he knew that he could not undo what had been done, he did, however, promise that Lupa's sacrifice for them would not be in vain.

They would achieve true Nirvana.

More importantly, they would protect Lupa's son.

Fred was there now. They would protect him and make sure that he followed in his father's footsteps.

They owed him that much, at least.

'It won't happen again Lupa…' he thought with a smile as he began to walk towards the HQ.

But, there was one other thing though…

Serph smiled a bit as he shook his head as he judged his feeling towards the Wolves tribe leader as childish.

'I envy you.'

Yes; he did.

He could only hope and wish that he could be at least half the man that Lupa had been. He could only wish that he could attain half the wisdom and honor that Lupa had…

Although the Wolves had been defeated, their ideals, the principles that Lupa had reigned with, will echo and reverberate and continue on into posterity.

And that, Serph reckoned, was true victory.

For that, Serph bowed to Lupa's wisdom and honor.

xxxx

FIN


End file.
